


Before It Can Get Better, The Darkness Gets Bigger

by Mysterycheerio



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Michelle Jones, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hospitalization, Inspired by Euphoria (TV 2019), Inspired by a Demi Lovato Song, Meet-Cute, Michelle Jones Is a Good Bro, Minor Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Pepper Potts Dies, Peter Parker is Pepper Potts's Biological Child, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Peter Parker is a Mess, Peter Parker isn't Spider-Man, Recreational Drug Use, Self-Harm, Songfic, Suicide Attempt, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:27:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26363419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysterycheerio/pseuds/Mysterycheerio
Summary: peter parker is depressed, addicted to cigarettes and alcohol. he just wants it to end.michelle jones is addicted to drugs.what will happen when they meet in the hospital?
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 31
Kudos: 124





	1. I'm So Sorry

**Author's Note:**

> hello, read the tags for tw,
> 
> also, spoilers for aos so
> 
> alya is tony and peppers child, as well as morgan.

Michelle’s dad got sick. Like, really fucking sick. There were days where after school, she’d give him his daily dose of pills, about ten or so a day, and just... talk to him. Tell him about her day, about a new blog she read, or maybe about her teachers annoying her.

Peter didn’t know how it happened, but it did. One day, he was out with his mom and dad, laughing and eating ice cream, the next he was obsessively counting calories. He has it under control though! Besides, Flash was right, and he was helping Peter by teaching him how to purge his stomach, and giving him those weight loss pills.

Michelle wasn’t stupid. She knew the doctors weren’t doing shit to save her dad. He was getting weaker. He could barely stay awake for more than a few hours, let alone leave his bed. She looked, one day, towards the drawer filled with pills.

Peter was sick of everything. Flash, school, his parents. He loved his parents, but they were focused more on Morgan and Alya, his little sisters. He doesn’t blame them. He’d get sick of himself too. The cupboard in the kitchen, the one filled with alcohol, called to him. He knew he wasn’t allowed to touch it, but frankly he didn’t fucking care. He just didn’t want to feel.

Michelle walked into her dad’s room, opening the drawer and tipping three yellow pills into her hand.

The beeping noise she had gotten so used to... stopped. She looked over, pocketed the pills, and rushed to call the paramedics.

When Peter got home, all eyes were on him. He expected them to be, he had run away after all. He expected to see Pepper chastising him, complaining about how she had to follow him, but she wasn’t there. He looked around the room, and landed on his Tony’s red eyes. Had he been crying?

“Where’s mom?”

Michelle walked into the room, trying to ignore the paramedics who were walking out, the body on the stretcher. She saw her mother, crying into her hands on the left side of the bed. Their eyes met for a moment.

_Momma, I’m so sorry, I’m not sober anymore_

Peter sobbed harshly as he sat in the bathroom, the only place where Friday wasn’t. He drank more whiskey, the drink burning his throat, as he sliced his arms horizontally. It was the least he could do, he killed his mother.

_And Daddy, please forgive me for the drinks spilled on the floor._

Peter stopped texting Ned, barely left his room, didn’t talk when Steve tried to talk to him, or when Wanda hugged him, or when Alya asked to play with him. He lived in a constant state of numbness. He started drinking to feel numb. He continued to feel pain.

_To the ones who never left me, we’ve been down this road before._

Michelle picked up her dad’s red hoodie from the bed, leaving the room and wrapping it around herself. It still smelled like him. From that moment, she kept the hoodie with her, always.

_I’m so sorry, I’m not sober anymore._

Both teenagers engaged in more parties. It was an excuse to get drunk, to do drugs, and to not get caught.

She longed for it. When you breathe out, you breathe out all the oxygen in your body, and... everything stops. Your lungs, your heart, your brain. And in that moment you fell nothing. No pain, no grief, pure nothingness. 

All she wanted was those two seconds of nothingness.

Peter started smoking. His thought process? Well, I’m gonna fucking die anyway. Besides, it felt nice. Breathing in something harsher than oxygen.

“MJ?” her mother called out, uncertain. She had heard Michelle gagging, possibly throwing up earlier.

“Michelle...”

“Hey, have you seen Peter?” Tony asked Clint, the man replying no. Tony pushed the elevator buttons, arriving at Peter’s floor. “Pete...”

Her mother screamed at what she saw. Michelle, laying motionless on the floor, in a puddle of her own vomit. “No, no, no... baby!”

Tony gasped. “Fr-Friday, call Helen, call... call everyone...” Peter was laying on his bed, the sheets stained red from the blood gushing from his arms.


	2. The Worlds You Keep Erasing And Creating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CAUSE ITS THE START OF SOMETHING NEW

Peter wasn’t stupid. He knew what came next. He was a disappointment, a failure, couldn’t even kill himself right.

In the hospital, he was on suicide watch and he hated it. He was never alone, usually it was either Tony or Natasha who was by his side, although when Morgan and Alya had to go to school, or sleep, it was normally Steve, Clint or Bucky.

Nat seemed the most heartbroken, which made him feel a little (read: extremely) guilty. His Auntie Nat was always kind to him, and how had he repaid her? By making her cry. Just another reason why he should fucking die.

He had a feeling they knew about the alcohol and the drugs, but he didn’t much care.... he didn’t care about anything to be honest.

Flowers, balloons, get well soon cards and chocolates were on a table in front of his bed, as if to remind him that there were people who would mourn if he left. He had barely touched the chocolate.

About a week into his stay at the hospital, something odd, but not unwelcome, walked into his private hospital room.

He was doing his schoolwork on the bed, finally alone cause of some work meeting they all went to, memorising Spanish words when a girl in sweatpants and a red hoodie walked in. The sleeves were drawn over her fingers and the hood was sitting gracefully on her head.

She sat on the end of his bed. 

“Private hospital room, flowers, balloons... wow. You put my bed to shame.”

He was confused. “Can I help you?”

She sighed, “probably not. But I am gonna steal your chocolates,” she paused, popping the candy into her mouth, “what are you working on?”

Peter didn’t have time to answer as she was leaning over, looking at his notebook.

“Spanish... you any good?”

He chuckled, “No... MFL is my worst subject. I could be doing better things than trying to memorise...” He looked at his worksheet, “una escalera.”  
She giggled, and whispered to herself (although Peter heard it) “Fuck yeah.”

“What’s your name?”

“Peter.”

“Okay Peter, I’m Michelle. How long are you staying here?”

He huffed, “Well, I’m on suicide watch and my parents are paranoid, so I’d say at least a month, maybe a little less.”

“Cool. I’m here for overdose, so I’m under suicide watch even though I’m not suicidal, so probably same.”

“You do drugs?”

She snorted. “Yeah. You haven’t done anything like that?”

“No, I uh, I drink. And smoke.”

“Really?”

He shrugged. “Alcohol’s the only constant in my life.”  
They sat in silence for a while, until Michelle got up off the bed. “I’ll be back tomorrow, loser.”

True to her word, she was back the next day. This time, he wasn’t alone. Nat was sitting in the seat next to him, answering emails on her phone while Peter read To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee.

Michelle came back with a sketchbook and pencils, and a small tray of cupcakes.

“Hi, loser, I brought food this time, so I don’t have to- oh,” she said, noticing Nat, who was staring at her, “Hi.”

“Hi. Peter, who is this?”

Peter smiled sheepishly, “This is Michelle. She’s my friend-"

“No.”

“-very good acquaintance,” Peter sighed, but the smile never left his face.

Nat also had a smile on her face, and announced that she’d leave the room, giving him some privacy.

Before she left, however she reminded him, “Remember Peter: Friday.”

Peter’s heart sunk a little, “Yeah, yeah.”

As soon as the door closed, Michelle asked, “What was that about?”

He sighed, “Long story short – surveillance. Still on suicide watch.”

She nodded, “I brought my sketchbook, and cupcakes,” she gestured to the tray in her hand before planting her haul at the foot of his bed, taking a red velvet cake and planting herself on the bed, right next to Peter. As a result, he shuffled to give her more room before taking a chocolate cupcake.

After a while, she took her sketchbook and started drawing in it, while he decided to scroll through Instagram. He looked over about half an hour later, and saw his own face staring back at him. His eyes bugged.

“You drew that? That’s so good!”

She shrugged neutrally, but a smile was betraying her uncaring facade, “I like drawing people in crisis.”

He laughed, “Of course you do. But I’m serious, Michelle-"

“MJ,” she cut in.

“huh?”

She looked at her lap sheepishly, “My friends call me MJ.”

He smiled to himself, “Okay, MJ.”

This is gonna be the start of something beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls leave a comment, or a review, or just tell me how much I suck :)


End file.
